


A Less Transient Place to Rest

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, First Meetings, Human Castiel, Identity Porn, M/M, Omega Verse, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiding from, well, everything, Dean hears a hit being put on a target; Sam. What will he give up to stop the assassin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Less Transient Place to Rest

The break room was nice, but Dean made a habit of always checking the unused corners. As such, he’d found where the roof of the offices didn’t meet up with the much higher roofs of the garage. The machinery and car lifts, plus some worker safety signs that no one ever read, blocked the area from sight. Maybe it was crazy, living at work, especially with his issues, but it was just until he found a new place.

He showered in the locker room, went to his shift at the bar, and nobody noticed he was always one of the first people there in the morning. Three weeks living in a nest at work was probably too long, unless you were an Avenger, so he started forcing himself to look for a new place. It was his night off from the bar, and he looked at a couple of places before going grocery shopping. No perishables, naturally, but some canned goods and heat-and-eat meals he was shoving into place in his nest when the door opened. 

Dropping to the floor, Dean peered through the signs as Allister punched in the alarm code before it could go off. Everybody that had ever worked here knew the alarm code, but most were too scared of boss Rufus to rob him. Dean tried very hard not to panic at Allister being here, and was actually relieved when a group of people followed him in to the garage. Allister didn’t share, a bit of knowledge that eased Dean’s mind. Working to not breathe too loud, Dean couldn’t help but overhear the talking. 

“This is the best meeting spot you could come up with?” The accent wasn’t quite British, for all Dean could tell, but he didn’t expect guys in tailored suits to appreciate a good garage. 

“If you’d told me what you required, I might have found something more to your tastes.” Allister’s annoyed voice had Dean lying flat on the roof; he didn’t need to see them talk, not if it would increase the chance that Allister might see him. 

“It’s cheap and we won’t be here long.” Accent remarked, as if to convince himself that he could stand it that long. 

“I’ll just be in the personnel office, so I don’t overhear your business.” Allister offered, a gesture that wasn’t like him at all. Allister loved knowing other people’s business; all the better to torture them with it. 

“Didn’t peg you for an identity thief.” Accent teased, as if he didn’t care about pissing Allister off. Accent was an idiot, Dean decided. 

“I’ll just have to suffer, wondering what you do peg me for,” Allister shot back in his lazy way of speaking. “Actually, there’s a very special someone on the payroll. I just need an address to send the gifts too.” 

Dean stopped breathing, knowing Allister wasn’t interested in Rufus. 

“Charming.” Accent replied, uninterested and unimpressed if his voice was anything to go off of. 

That seemed to dry up the conversation, so Allister whistled his way to the offices. Dean could hear him moving around under him, and was desperately glad to focus on the conversation that started up when someone’s phone rang. 

“Crowley, Bob says a pretty little redhead is coming our way.” 

“Well, maybe Allister has those gifts handy; don’t want to disappoint a lady.” Crowley informed his crowd, and they laughed sycophantically. 

Dean rested his head on his nest floor and realized it was time to give it up. He wasn’t doing any good here, and Allister would never find him if he went back to Bobby in South Dakota. He’d just have to hide in the attic whenever John dropped by for a drunken visit. Dean knew the two men had bonded over their dead wives, but he didn’t know why Bobby put up with John these days. 

The creaking door brought Dean out of his thoughts, and he looked up. The petite redhead was hot, and not at all bothered by walking into a room full of thugs, and whatever the hell Crowley and Allister were. 

“Azazel?” Crowley asked, politely and without a concern, as if whoever he was waiting on could be this petite woman. 

“No. Lilith, Azazel’s social secretary.” The redhead responded, pulling her hair back to show the blinking Bluetooth in her ear. “Azazel can hear everything that goes on, and is ready to demonstrate his abilities the instant anyone puts a hand on me.” 

“Your boss insists on a face-to-face meeting in a neutral location, and then doesn’t show?” Crowley commented, before his voice dropped into annoyance. “This is why I have a phone.” 

“You were allowed two bodyguards, and yet there are eight heat signatures around this building.” 

As cold as Dean was suddenly feeling, he hoped his heat signature had just disappeared from that count. 

“I might be a touch paranoid,” Crowley said, waving his hand as if it didn’t matter. “And some of those are the neutral location’s security. Let’s just cut to the chase so we can all go home. Azazel has an international reputation for never failing to take out his target. I want to hire him to viciously murder someone, as a sign to the rest of the people who interfere with my plans. Do this right, and I’ll send more work your way. I’ll pay you a million dollars to kill attorney Samuel Campbell.” 

“Wow. You really could have done that over the phone.” Lilith blinked, and then seemed to sink back into her untouchable status. “We insist on the first meeting face-to-face so Azazel can intimidate people into hurrying up. Most people are really nervous about the first hit.” 

“It’s not my first, just my first with Azazel.” Crowley smiled back, but had no more to say. 

“Alright. Do you have a picture?” 

“Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me.” Crowley said with a smile, before snapping his fingers at one of the guards. 

The guard gently pulled out a photo to hand to Lilith, but Dean doesn’t need to see it; he knew his own brother’s face. He’d moved out here to try and get to know his brother again, not save him from assassins, yet he knew he had to try. As Lilith inquired after the time frame for the kill, Dean crawled to the window. 

There was a small gap between the top of the offices and the external wall, but there was an awning over the main door to catch his fall. Dean usually came and went by standing on a chair and climbing up the tool rack; this had been his designated emergency exit. He’d even greased it, so the window didn’t make a sound as he slid it open. It was a good thing he didn’t own anything that was irreplaceable, as he left it all behind to shove his body outside into the twilight. 

The awning caught him, and enough people watched him fumble to the ground that he knew he wouldn’t get a chance to claim his stuff. A smile, to indicate to them that nothing was wrong, and Dean considered what he knew about the surrounding area. 

The poor part of town, so most buildings weren’t that tall, except the apartments, and there weren’t that many apartments near his work. There were some tall warehouses a block over, and considering it, Dean thought he could make a shot from there, especially with a fancy sniper rifle with heat sensors. Starting out at a jog, Dean did his best to get around where he figured Crowley’s men would be without being seen by them. 

He was panting as he lined himself up with the row of warehouses, looking for the redhead to walk into one. He hated running, but regretted every day he didn’t go for a jog right now. Sam might die because he was too tired by working for a living to workout. 

Dean let out a sigh of relief when he spotted that bright red hair crossing the street toward the warehouses; he hadn’t been too late after all. Yeah, maybe he could go to Sam and convince him that he was being targeted, but whatever humanity Sam had, apparently died in that house fire with Jess. After graduating, he’d joined a private firm, and pulled in the big money that kept him too busy for Dean. But even if Sam was a soulless asshole, Dean still had to try everything to save him. 

Lilith was careful to make sure she wasn’t being followed, but missed Dean hiding by a dumpster. He was also in front of her, so he couldn’t have been following her, or so he hoped she’d think. Finally, she swerved at the last moment and darted into a warehouse, the door opening easily. Dean watched to make sure she didn’t come back out, and to give any other people following her time to show up. Standing up, Dean brushed his clothes down to be as presentable as possible, and went to knock on the warehouse door. 

He waited, and then knocked again, praying they hadn’t left through another exit. 

Lilith opened the door with a silenced pistol in her hand and a confused look on her face. 

“Hello,” Dean offered in with his most sincere smile. “I’d like to make a deal with Azazel, but I don’t have an appointment.” 

Lilith glared at him, but after a moment gestured for him to enter, with the business end of her gun. Dean went slowly and carefully into the vast expanse of the empty warehouse, not faltering when Lilith locked the door behind him. An overhead light flicked on in the center of the warehouse, the fluorescents slowly gaining in strength. Without having to be told, Dean went to stand in the spotlight. 

“Talk, and know Azazel can hear everything you say.” Lilith demanded when he was where she wanted him. 

Dean found his mouth had suddenly gone dry, but he was too skilled a liar to let that stop him. He turned so his body faced Lilith, and then turned his head up and spoke to where Azazel was most likely hiding, up in the catwalks of the ceiling. 

“I was the eighth heat signature in the garage. I don’t want to involve cops, but I would prefer it if you didn’t kill Sam Campbell.” 

“I’m sure all the people he’s helped as a lawyer don’t want him killed either.” Lilith smirked, without waiting for her boss to tell her the answer. 

“I know you’re not going to break a contract without getting something back,” Dean paused in addressing the ceiling, knowing he only had one thing to offer yet still reluctant to do so. 

“I’m thrilled you understand the basics of capitalism,” Lilith smirked at him, “but you will have to provide a counteroffer.” 

“One thirty-year-old male omega, never been penetrated.” The words came out clinically, but the blush was doubtless visible from the rafters. 

“You can’t be serious.” Lilith demanded, too soon to be translating for her boss. 

“I’ve had sex before,” Dean’s words were now a stuttering mess, and he was getting quieter with every word. “Only beta women, though.” 

“Male omegas don’t get to be your age without a mate, no matter how many suppressants they take.” Lilith spoke, but there was only confusion in her voice, instead of the condescension of all her previous words. 

“I have other skills.” Dean sent Lilith a smirk and a wink, hoping to distract her. The unimpressed eyebrow he got in return showed it didn’t work. A gulp of air, and he played his last card. 

“Make sure Sam Campbell will not be a target of Crowley’s other assassins, and you can have me. Once I go off the suppressants, fifteen years of built up heats will hit. Use me, I’ll beg you for it. When it’s over, take me to the nearest Tower. I’ll show them my skills, and they’ll give you $50,000 for an unregistered omega guide.” 

Lilith’s eyes looked over his shoulder and Dean turned around, jumping when he saw the floating blue eyes behind him. As he calmed, he saw the eyes were, conventionally, attached to a face and under some dark, messy hair. The man also had a large, powerful looking rifle on the strap over his shoulder. The rifle of an internationally famous assassin, probably. 

“You smell like a beta.” Azazel’s voice apparently had to crawl up from the pits of hell to reach his throat; there was no other reason for it to be that deep. 

“Most of my money goes to smelling like a beta. I got kind of sweaty on the way over here, so you might be able to smell me if you got close enough.” 

Azazel tilted his head and squinted. Not sure what to make of that, Dean hurried on. 

“I know it’s hard to believe, but my low level guide abilities are just enough to confuse anybody who smells me. It’s mostly kept me safe.” 

“Mostly?” Azazel’s head came up and he looked angry. 

“There’s this alpha, he thinks I’m a beta but he’s still obsessed with me. I really haven’t been fucked yet; I got away before he got that far.” 

“Got away?” 

Azazel apparently wanted clarification, though Dean thought this part shouldn’t matter. He also didn’t want to talk about it, but if it convinced Azazel to take the deal, he knew he would. 

“I do some bartending and this guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was waiting outside the bar one night and jumped me. I woke up locked in his basement, handcuffed to the bed. Allister wanted to take his time, save fucking me for something special. He left behind a pen, so I used it to pick the handcuffs and escaped.” 

“What did the cops do to Allister?” 

Dean frowned, and looked Azazel in the eye for the first time. The assassin really thought he should go to the cops about this? “I’m a low-level guide hiding from the Tower. I can’t call the cops without risking testing.” 

Rage filled Azazel’s very blue, very expressive eyes, and Dean ducked a little and hoped he wasn’t the target. 

“Why,” Lilith asked, “do you care about Sam Campbell?” 

Dean reached up to rub at his neck and tried to think of a good lie. He’d already said he didn’t go to the cops, so he couldn’t say Sam had been his lawyer. Dean rubbed harder at his neck, feeling a strange compulsion to tell the truth. Well, the truth hadn’t gotten him killed yet, but he had to protect Sam. 

“He’s a nice guy; isn’t that enough?” 

“He’s lying,” Lilith announced with surprise in her voice. “Protective instincts kept him from telling the truth.” 

Dean turned back to Lilith, ready to demand how she knew that. Had she been influencing him to tell the truth? Was she a guide? Before he could speak, there was a sound behind him, and then a nose at his neck, breathing in the sweat around his hairline. Dean froze to keep himself from running away; he needed this alpha to like his scent, even if he didn’t want his life handed over to an alpha or the Tower. 

“Under the chemicals is something tantalizing.” Azazel admitted, getting ever closer to Dean as he sniffed. 

“We have protocols for this.” Lilith said, gun still in her hand but now hanging at her side. 

Azazel yanked Dean closer to him and shoved his nose into Dean’s armpit. 

Dean got the feeling protocol was just as fucked as he was, but he held his arm up for Azazel to get a better sniff. 

Azazel slipped a hand into the back of Dean’s jeans, clamping his other arm around Dean’s waist when he yelped and tried to move away. Aroused alpha pheromones began to fill the warehouse, fighting through even Dean’s chemically dulled senses. 

“Really?” Lilith yelled, hand covering her nose and mouth. She had a familiar horrified look on her face, the same one Sammy wore when he caught Dean having sex. 

“He’s your brother?” Lilith and Dean shouted at each other. 

Dean had more questions, like who named their kids Lilith and Azazel, hopefully those were code names, but Azazel was demanding attention. He was digging in Dean’s jeans and boxers, and Dean’s jeans weren’t loose enough. To stop the jostling, Dean undid his belt and zipper. Azazel purred in his ear, and started rubbing a finger over Dean’s asshole. Dean shrugged at Lilith. 

“I’m on the drugs so I don’t have alphas losing their minds over me. If I do this, will he protect Sam?” 

“Let Castiel in, into your body and your mind, and no harm will come to Sam.” Lilith’s words were a promise, and Dean believed her, just as he believed Castiel was this guy’s real name. 

He didn’t really have much choice, not with Castiel this far gone, but having Lilith’s word helped somehow. Lilith disappeared into the darkness, and Dean pulled his shirts over his head. Castiel growled in pleasure and moved his hands up to explore this new expanse of skin. This let Dean shove his jeans and boxers down to the tops of his boots. He was hobbled, but he’d have to wait for Castiel to let him move before he could unlace his boots. 

Castiel wanted to explore all of Dean, but one hand stayed on his asshole constantly. Dean breathed in the alpha arousal, worked his own cock and mind until he was turned on and ready. If it wasn’t for all the ways the alpha would own him when this was over, then Dean could have really enjoyed it. He’d always wanted this, knew something was missing from sex with betas, but the consequences had always held him back. Those consequences were upon him, and he surrendered with as much grace as he could, by letting himself enjoy the act. 

The glob of slick that made its way out of him showed his body was fighting the suppressants, as arousal tended to do. The smell of it made Castiel coo, and then he was kneeling, eating Dean out with vigor. Dean almost fell to his knees, surprised at how good that felt, but he forced himself to hold it together. Slowly, he knelt, causing Castiel to lick and kiss up his spine. He worked his way back down, and Dean leaned onto his hands. He expected the classic presenting pose to hurry Castiel into claiming him, but Castiel went back to rimming him. 

Dean felt the slick increase, responding to the stimulation. Knowing the slick could reduce the injuries from a violent claiming, Dean made no move to stop the alpha. It also felt really, really good, sending arousal ricocheting around his pelvis. His cock was dripping from the tongue fucking his entrance, as it stretched and teased. Castiel grabbed his ass cheeks to spread them, pushing his tongue back into the hole he was laving. It must have poked his prostate, or something Castiel was doing with his hands did, because Dean came. 

Dean didn’t get to linger in the aftermath of that orgasm, not as worried as he was about what was to come, but Castiel just kept rimming him. Dean got over his sensitivity, got hard again, and could probably come again just from this, if his hands and arms weren’t aching. This was starting to get weird. Deciding he’d have to be in charge, Dean pulled away and turned onto his back. Castiel didn’t move, his tongue now licking at the slick that covered his face and dripped down his chin. His pupils were so dilated Dean couldn’t even see the strange blue that he’d first seen of the man. This was more than lust, this level of focus and obsession. 

“You’re a sentinel!” 

Castiel didn’t respond to the words, the voice; his entire being was zeroed in on tasting Dean’s slick. Castiel was zoning. Lilith, or whatever her real name was, was his guide and his sister. Sexual bonds were supposed to be the best bonds, or so sentinel/guide porn told him. Would she really leave her brother with an untrained guide-in-hiding to avoid watching him have sex? 

“Lilith?” Dean called to the warehouse. “Lilith, he’s zoning! I have no fucking idea what to do.” 

There was no response, not even the clatter of someone caught out trying to make themselves unnoticeable. Becoming this guy’s guide might be the only way to save Sam, as Dean could make sure Castiel protected Sam, even if Castiel had gone rogue from the Tower’s control. What if he was under the Tower’s control? Did they allow sentinels to become assassins or did they train him specifically for illegal wetwork? The only way Dean was going to get any answers was to get Castiel out of his zone. 

Even if he was an omega with guide tendencies, there was not guarantee that he could drag a sentinel from a zone. Hell, he’d only figured out his gifts when he’d tried the Jedi Mind Trick on a handsy alpha. “This is not the omega you are looking for” had turned into his catchphrase when he wasn’t with Sam. He wasn’t even sure how it had worked, but over time he’d gotten a little better at sending the idea directly into the alpha’s brain. Still, he didn’t think “this is not the zone you are looking for” would work. 

Dean had learned the basics from an old book Bobby had, hiding in his panic room as he practiced. So he closed his eyes, imagined himself back in the metal room. These were his mental shields, the things that kept him from hearing random emotions. Slowly, he opened the door and sent his abilities out to touch the alpha’s mind. His mind protested, since he’d spent so much time hiding, so he had to shove towards the alpha. 

It was chaos in the alpha’s mind, he could tell that with a light mental touch. He could let the alpha zone, find Sam and convince him that he was in danger. Except, the way Sam had been acting lately, never having time to even talk on the phone with Dean, he probably wouldn’t listen. The alpha with the gun skills might be the only thing that could save Sam. A sigh, and Dean fully committed himself to helping the sentinel. 

Delving into the alpha’s mind, Dean found a riot of colors. Touching a band of red, Dean found that the sentinel’s nose was sending him that red color. There was an emotion in the red, a combination of lust and want and good. Nice to know the alpha found his sent sexy, but Dean wasn’t really sure what to do about it. Hell, all he did about his own emotions was to box them up to ignore later. Would that work here? 

Instead of being metaphorical, Dean imagined a cardboard box for scotch. That was some heavy duty cardboard, and Dean hoped it would hold the very red thoughts of the alpha. Mentally, he reached for the red shades and began shoving them in the box. When he was out of red, he closed and labeled the box as reds. Dean reached for the shades of green, which felt of safety and new life. Next the blues, and Dean was able to box without analyzing the feelings of it. Dean also wasn’t too concerned about shades or hues, just guessing what a color was and boxing it up. It was exhausting, considering it was all in his mind, but when he was out of colors the alpha still wasn’t awake. 

He wanted leave, but he was doing this for Sam, so Dean forced himself to look again. The mental space he was in was blank, no longer filled with color, but still lit enough to clearly see his boxes and labels. Hoping he was guessing correctly, Dean reached for the light. This felt of rightness, righteousness, of coming home after years away; it felt of mate. 

Panicking, beyond thoughts of Sam, Dean dropped the light but it refused to fall off his hand. Shaking it didn’t matter, the light stayed on him. Dean thrust his mind back to his body, leaving the light behind, or trying to. He needed to get behind his shield, that would keep the light out, and any other feelings of ownership the alpha had. Back in his skull, Dean reached for his shields but was distracted. He’d never seen a glowing turtle with a glowing owl perched on his back, in real life or his mind. 

The sight was enough to make him pause, to let the light gain entry, but Dean threw his shields up. Placing his mind in Bobby’s panic room Dean locked his guide abilities up tight. Slowly, he became aware of his body again, bringing him out of the panic of almost mind-linking himself with an alpha sentinel. He was still on his back, and the alpha was fucking into him, chest pressed to chest, so he’d come out of his zone enough to move to claim Dean. 

Fucking alphas and their ability to have sex at all times, especially without their brains. But, Dean could work with this. After he came, the alpha would relax and let Dean slip away. He wasn’t going far, just putting space between them while he tried to reason with the alpha, make the alpha save Sam. Shifting a little, Dean tried to give the alpha the friction he needed to come. The alpha growled and picked up the pace, faster now that the omega was responding. 

Dean had the feeling he was forgetting something, but when he tried to reach for it he found only light. It was important, he needed to remember, but the light had followed him back, got further in his mind than he wanted. Growling with frustration, Dean felt the alpha pull at his neck. Dean remembered, breaking through the light, just as the alpha bit his neck and came in him. That stupid light had kept him from remembering the mating bite, the thing he’d feared since he presented. 

The alpha was growling over him, teeth still in Dean’s shoulder, and it was not a pleased growl of ownership. Dean forced his eyes open to see a bunch of people in suits staring down at them. A small man with a gold aura was grinning, but a young alpha was panicking, pulling something from under his coat. 

“He’s gone feral!” The boy shouted, and there was a moment of pain and then unconsciousness. 

҉ 

Dean woke to the hated heat in his gut, the dreaded awareness of his heat starting. He was hard, and the silk sheets weren’t to blame for all of that. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and checked to see if he was alone. Dean expected a high-priced assassin to have the best of everything, but this round, whitewashed room seemed more like an explosion in a dairy factory than a luxury hotel. 

The round room held a bed, a couch, a small table next to the couch and nothing else. Some high windows bathed the room in a natural light, but kept the bed in darkness. The door to the outside blended almost seamlessly into the wall, expect for the large electronic intercom and keypad. Next to that was a door to what Dean assumed was the bathroom, which had a cloudy door that allowed him to see somebody in there pacing. It was a pocket door, sliding in and out of the wall instead of using a doorknob, so it didn’t lock. 

Round rooms, blank rooms with nothing to trigger a sentinel’s zones, rooms an omega couldn’t escape until they were mated to the alpha. Holy fuck, he was in the Tower, about to be given to an alpha and he hadn’t even saved Sam. Dean’s lungs stopped working, his breath coming in tiny, insufficient pants. His heat backed off to make room for his panic attack. 

“Dean, it’s okay. Breathe with me. Inhale, two, three, four, exhale, two, three, four.” 

The gravelly voice was reassuring, even though Dean didn’t want it to be. Something about it made Dean latch onto the count, inhaling and exhaling as the voice continued. Slowly, he became aware of the alpha kneeling between his legs, not touching Dean and calmly talking to him, counting him out of his panic attack. An alpha with very blue eyes. 

It was easy for the hot alpha to tell him to calm down; his whole life hadn’t just been handed over to a strange alpha, and the authority of the Tower who would breed Dean like a bitch but have other people raise his kids, like they were in the Jedi Academy from birth …

Dean’s panicking mind could have continued on this train of thought for years, but his alpha accidently found the one switch that could override everything. 

The alpha paused in his counting to say “Calm down and you can see Sam after your heat.” 

“Sammy’s okay?” Dean was still breathing funny, and a little dizzy from jumping off that thought train so fast, but thoughts of Sam brought him out of it. 

“Sam is safe, Dean, he’s alive and going to stay that way.” 

“How?” What Dean really meant was how can I trust you, but the alpha thought his words were calming Dean down and decided to throw more words at Dean instead of answering questions Dean didn’t finish asking. 

“Sam was picked up from his office by Sentinels. After Anna left us in the warehouse, she reported in what was happening and the name of the target. They managed to arrest most of Crowley’s organization, but Crowley was still at large when they stopped talking to me. Nobody else should even know that Sam had a price on his head.” 

Dean responded by pulling the silk sheets tighter around him, as if that would stop the smell of his slick from reaching the alpha a foot away from his crotch. He wanted to learn more, not deal with his heat. 

“Did Anna betray you or are you both rogues from the Tower?” 

“No, what, I’m not.” Castiel stopped his ramble to breathe and start again. “I am an alpha sentinel, and all five of my senses are enhanced. I’m turning thirty-five in a few weeks, and I was expected to fall into a fatal zone since I didn’t have a guide. Azazel went rogue from the Tower and became a contract killer, and after we stopped him, they put me in his place. I was undercover to find the people who hired him and to protect his targets. Anna was my partner, who was supposed to let them know when I went into a terminal zone.” 

“A suicide mission. But, that means Sam wasn’t in any real danger. Means I’ve fucked up again and thrown my life away for nothing.” Dean could hear his father’s voice in his head, a flashback to the last time they’d spoke. “Fucking useless omega, dumb as bricks.” 

“Dean, no, that man is wrong.” 

Dean jerked his eyes back to Castiel’s face, wondering before he remembered the bond between them. The one he’d run from, but it had managed to attach. 

“I can’t hear everything through the bond; you just have some very loud thoughts. But that voice, calling you useless? That was loud and very wrong. I saw your heat signature when we arrived, and I had trouble figuring out where you were hiding, so it was a clever hiding place. I also saw you leave through the window, so I know exactly how long you had to make a decision. You had very little information to make that decision, and I don’t know that I could have come up with a better one. Most people would have fled and let Sam die. You might not care right now, but even if you didn’t save Sam’s life, you saved mine.” 

Dean knew he needed time to process this or at least box it all up in the back of his mind, but his biology wasn’t going to give him that time. His heat really wanted him to sit on the alpha’s cock, which was visible and engorged through the soft cotton pajamas. “I’m in heat.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” Castiel shifted where he was kneeling and only licked his lips a little. “I initiated a mating bond in the warehouse, which flooded your body with chemicals, basically washing out whatever suppressants you may have been on. I was coming out of zone on how beautifully you filled up my senses and there were alphas all around, so I was a bit aggressive, and Alfie tasered us.” 

“I’ve been eating crap food and I don’t know if the drugs in my system were good for my body.” 

“Gabriel took some blood, since he’s the only one I trusted enough to get within ten feet of you. He’s a doctor, and an alpha sentinel. Nominally, Zachariah is in charge of the Tower but really Gabriel is, and he’s made this the most liberal Tower in the world. I asked, and he gave you a shot to prevent conception during your heat, just in case you aren’t ready.” 

“You asked for that?” 

“I figured you would need time to adjust and learn to be a guide before we started raising a baby.” 

“Won’t the Tower force us?” 

“Not while Gabriel is here, but he doesn’t have a guide either.” 

“How long until he zones?” 

Castiel shrugged with his face, a motion that had Dean wondering at how he’d managed that. “He’s already two years past expectations.” 

“I want to raise my kids, even if that means we run from the Tower.” Dean demanded, just to see what his so-called liberal Tower dwelling alpha would do. It was true though, as raising Sam was the only thing that Dean had ever been good at, and Dean hoped Castiel felt that truth through the bond. 

“I think you will change your mind after you get used to this Tower, but if things change than we will run away to raise our kids.” 

Castiel looked and felt sincere, but Dean knew the alpha would probably say anything for a chance at his slick hole. Hell, his liberal attitude was probably the only thing keeping Castiel from shoving Dean back and taking. 

“Awesome.” Dean muttered and flopped down on the bed. He started pulling the sheet away from his legs first, knowing where the alpha was going. He didn’t expect Castiel to lean over and begin unwrapping Dean’s torso from the sheet. Once he was exposed, Castiel still didn’t slide into him, pausing to hover over Dean and look into his face. 

“You won’t believe me until you see it, and you won’t see it until we can leave this room. Dean, I will make this good for you. For your next heat, after I’ve proven myself to you, you can bite me back. 

The alpha shook his head sadly and disappeared as he took off his clothes. Dean took the time to try and make sense of the words. Omegas didn’t claim mates, yet this strange alpha had said it so matter-of-factly. The weird alpha moved back into view, to kiss Dean’s sternum and trail kisses down his chest. This didn’t make thinking any easier, but it did release a flood of slick Dean couldn’t expect to be ignored. Castiel did shift his focus, but not to Dean’s ass. Instead he swooped over to suck on Dean’s left nipple and run a hand from the root to tip of Dean’s dick. 

Dean came, as surprised by this as he was by everything else the alpha was doing. While Dean recovered from the orgasm, Castiel started licking up his spunk, but Dean didn’t have the brain power to think about that right now. The licks to his cock were getting that to perk back up, so Dean felt he had to say something. 

“I’m not usually this pathetic. It’s been a long time since I had sex and I’m extra sensitive in my heat.” 

“Not pathetic, beautiful, so responsive and not even in full heat yet.” Castiel had to take his mouth off of Dean to respond, so his hands used Dean’s slick to gently rub at Dean’s nipples. “We’re still working all those chemicals out of your system so you can go into heat. Even now, I’m not going to touch you until you beg for it.” 

Dean propped up on his elbows, to better watch the alpha, and Castiel took this as a chance to lick the crease between Dean’s thigh and pelvis. This led to kisses, hickeys on his sensitive right thigh, the back of his knee, attention that had Dean shoving his left leg out to the side for better access. When Castiel got tired of his thigh, he moved to Dean’s balls, testing their sensitivity, and Dean laid back down. By the time Castiel had sucked both into his mouth, Dean came a second time trying to call Castiel’s name, but not managing the mouthful. 

Dean panted while Castiel cleaned up the little bit of cum he’d managed this time. Regained his breath while Castiel used his slick to paint on Dean’s skin, and then lick it up. 

“Too much name,” Dean managed to say in his orgasm shredded voice. “Gonna stick with Cas.” 

“Cas? I think I like that, but you’ll need to shout it out a few more times for me to be sure.” Cas punctuated this statement by letting his tongue rim Dean instead of collecting the slick with his fingers. 

“Tongue like that?” Dean managed to find the wits to say. “If Sam’s alive when we get out of here, you may stand a chance with me.” 

Cas stopped what he was doing to sit up and look Dean in the eye. “I’ll take that deal.” 

A solemn moment of eye contact that had Dean blushing as the sincerity in his eyes, and then Cas got back to work. With Cas moaning down there like he was eating the world’s greatest apple pie, Dean’s dick was quick to take interest. By the time Cas’ knot was caught by Dean’s desperate, begging, heat-riddled body, they both thought Cas was the greatest sound ever. 

҉ 

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/W7W35853)


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